


Does Size Not Matter

by baldersgratetoo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Barebacking, Bottom Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Butt Plugs, Comeplay, Embarrassment, Fucking, Hopeful Ending, Large Cock, M/M, Misunderstandings, Morning After, Morning Sex, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Open Relationships, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Size Kink, Top Cullen Rutherford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 18:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21086108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baldersgratetoo/pseuds/baldersgratetoo
Summary: Max is fed up of Cullen working himself to exhaustion and sticks his foot in it. It turns out it's not work wearing Cullen out.





	Does Size Not Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the below prompt. I have a long backlog I've been trying to start and this one just kept flowing. Has some plot before the porn.
> 
> Cullen/all males, size kink  
Date: 2018-10-12 11:57 am (UTC)  
From: (Anonymous)  
Cullen has an embarrassingly large cock and the men in Skyhold want a ride.
> 
> Bonus points for Cullen being able to go for multiple runs.
> 
> https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/93509.html?thread=366192453

In Haven, Max paid more heed to his Commander drilling the troops than the idiosyncrasies of his administrative activities. This was followed by, and interspersed with, very skilfully evading him. He hoped to avoid embarrassment to either of them that would likely arise from recalling his botched attempt at coming onto the flustered Fereldan. As such, the queues of people lined up outside Cullen's quarters on an evening were nothing more than a niggle in the back of his mind about his Commander overexerting himself.

Pondering on the matter further was unfortunately interrupted by the town being overrun by an ancient darkspawn and his dragon. Not to mention the army of corrupted Templar's. Landing in Skyhold didn't offer much of a reprieve. With a rotating selection of his inner circle marching out with him with only a night or two of rest between each outing, other things slipped.

It wasn't until months later when things had settled and calmed, for all that that was possible when you and your fellow rabble were responsible for preventing the end of the world, that Max realised that everyone other than Cullen seemed to have learned the art of delegation.

Those few nights he was afforded the luxury of his bed in Skyhold, there was always a queue waiting on the battlement outside Cullen's door. Later he determined that this wasn't an exceptional circumstance he caught by chance. It seemed to happen without fail at least every other night unless a grave matter demanded the Commander's consideration elsewhere. Or, if it were one of those days where try to hide it as he might the withdrawal would be too much.

The men, and oddly it was only ever men, who lined up outside always seemed infinitely more satisfied after their meeting with Cullen. Weirdly there appeared to be an improvement in general moral and far fewer brawls, the days following. Though, Cullen himself would often seem more worn out than usual.

Maxwell Trevelyan may have been relatively young, naive in some respects, hopelessly inept in others. He knew the difference between essential business and Cullen working himself to the bone for the sake of it, regardless. This seemed to be the latter. The most baffling thing to him was the one occasion on which Dorian and Bull appeared to be waiting for an appointment. Like everyone else they stood in line, unlike everyone else, they went in together. Like everyone else, they left by the opposite door; Dorian looked intensely satisfied, Bull looked utterly baffled. The Qunari was much more possessive than usual of his mage for weeks following that event for some reason.

Josephine told him that she had marriage proposals to answer from Orlesian nobles whenever he tried to bring up his concerns with her. He cared for Cullen, but he had his limits.

Leliana laughed in his face and called him an idiot. Happily, his brother had inherited the ego, but it stung anyway as he felt he was missing something glaringly obvious.

Cassandra just glared at him, angrily told him it was none of his concern, then stalked off mumbling something about Varric and his smut.

Appearing especially frayed one morning and making a stupid mistake in a practice dual with a mediocre soldier that had his Commander temporarily relegated to a healers tent had Max resolved to put an end to this. The following evening he climbed to the battlements to find only one runner by the tower door peering out into the gloom.

Silently he sneaked up and slapped his hands down on the man's shoulders. Never one to pass up the opportunity to be childish Max couldn't hold in a giggle at the sound that came out of the scout's mouth. As he turned, Max pasted on a big grin. 'Hello Jim!' he chirped, 'been on watch long?'

Jim, it seemed, was still recovering from the shock of being struck when he began the panic of realising who had assaulted him. 'Lord Trevelyan,' he yelped. Max found it somewhat disconcerting.

'Max,' he said smirking.

'Sorry Sir, Lord Max, I mean inquisitor, Sir. Not long.'

It took a minute for him to realise he had his answer.

'Oh, good. I'd like you to turn anyone away from the Commander's door tonight. Anything truly urgent can come to anyone else, but unless it's a crisis, he is not to be disturbed. Understood?' It was polite, simple language, so Max was now baffled as to why the man went from looking like he was in a complete panic to looking like Max had ordered him to go around kicking puppies.

Luckily the door burst open; Max had the distinct impression he would have been given an earful from a scout called Jim. Which had him somewhat bewildered.

'Inquisitor? I wasn't expecting to see you this evening. Not an emergency, I hope?' Cullen demanded even as his eyebrow raised at the looks on the faces of the men before him.

'Not at all, I had just come for a quick word, just making sure Jim here knew to keep everyone from disturbing you tonight.' Cullen's expression had frozen, and he was looking past Max at the scout behind him upon hearing the cheerful reply. A small nod from the man and Max heard Jim scurry off. Max's mother always said he hadn't the ability to read a room. He had a sinking suspicion; this was one of those unpleasant situations where he would be forced to admit she was right about something.

'May I ask why Inquisitor?' His question had the sound of someone being chastised when they knew they were doing something that would be disapproved of but resolved that it was their business and they'd bloody well keep doing it. Max used that a lot, it's why he recognised it.

'You should be sleeping. Or at least resting. Not entertaining the whims or every man who needs his requisition filling. It's not just the numbers it's who. Dorian should know better for one,' Max said, perhaps more forcefully than he intended but it irritated him. Dorian knew how overworked Cullen was. He just wasn't quite expecting the reaction he received. Cullen looked furious for a second then blank, no emotion in his face at all.

'Is that an order?' Cullen asked cooly.

'Yes, it is, you work too hard.'

'Inquisitor,' Cullen interrupted, but Max needed to make his reasons clear. Even if he lost a friend, he couldn't afford to lose his Commander to overwork.

'If these men really need your attention I'm sure I can be of use,' for some reason the man had turned crimson at this and was shaking his head, 'or even the rest of the inner circle if you won't trust your reports!' Cullen now looked baffled but "reading the room" and all, 'I'm not here as the inquisitor Cullen, I'm just Max, and I'm worried about you, but if I need to order you not to work at night I will!' Ending in a shout probably wasn't the best way to go but it didn't appear to have drawn any undue attention. Cullen's mouth was working silently, as though speaking, but with no sound escaping.

Max began to draw in a breath, whether to apologise or double down on his convictions his mouth hadn't yet decided. His subconscious would uncomfortably run over whichever it was at an inopportune future moment before telling him why it was a terrible decision regardless, but he was beaten to it by an uncharacteristically small sounding, 'I wasn't.'

And nothing else. 'Wasn't what?'

'Working,' came the frustrated unclear clarification. 'Inqu..., Max, I'm not working.'

'I don't understand. Men queue up outside your door, and each of them is with you for at most half an hour; what else...'

'I'm fucking them!' It really could have been an eternity before time began moving again, the utter look of horror falling over Cullen's face and Max's ability for rational thought slowly piecing itself back together.

'Sorry, I misheard that,' Max choked out before he was yanked forward, nearly losing his balance as he was flung into Cullen's office. Turning back, he saw the commander wave to someone, Jim he supposed, then close the door before banging his head against it.

His head resting against the wood, facing away from Max, the muffled words that emptied from him played like the last confession of a dying man. 'They come here because they want to fuck. I tried doing it by appointment as I used to in Kirkwall, but even before you arrived, it was too hectic and my withdrawal to unpredictable. It became easier to say turn up at a certain time. First come, first served. When I'm worn out, try again next time. If I'm not available, the guard can turn them away.'

Max was horrified. How had he not seen what was transpiring? How could Dorian? He felt sick. 'By the Maker! You don't even enjoy this do you it's just another bloody duty.'

The man spun around, looking honestly shocked at the assertion. 'No! At least not in the way you make it sound.'

'Meaning?'

'I don't do this without agency. I may not be picky, but I do have standards. I am not an unwilling or coerced participant.'

'Oh. Well, that's good, I suppose,' Max said, wincing even as he heard himself.

Cullen's body sagged again, and he leant back to let the door take his weight. 'Really? You don't seem that happy about it.' The reply was biting, and Max was willing to admit not entirely undeserved.

'No. Yes! I mean,' Max started pacing about the tower rubbing his face before. Turning back to Cullen who now stood defiant and defeated at once, he declared, 'I am glad you are doing this of your own free will and feel free to say no as it suits you. In no way does it make me think less of you as my Commander, or I hope my friend. I am merely upset that I do not meet your standards. For that I apologise, I know it is my problem, not yours.'

'Why do you think you do not meet my standards?'

'You were fairly clear about where I stood in that regard back in Haven. As evidenced by my having no idea what was actually going on that is also irrelevant, I'm not going to interfere in your private life, for whatever meaning of private it is, but I came here because I was worried you seemed exhausted after these sessions.'

Max felt uncomfortable under Cullen's gaze. He didn't seem like he was still angry, more confused and apparently trying to come to some sort of decision.

'Firstly, it may not be your reason for coming here, but I don't think it irrelevant. I may have misunderstood what you were asking for in Haven, and you may have misunderstood what I was rejecting. Either way, we didn't discuss it further and moved on. I am willing, happily, and probably uncomfortably, to have that discussion with you if you wish. The tiredness is a symptom of my withdrawal, not of this. This helps if anything.'

'Then yesterday morning?' Max asked, his hopeful side too pessimistic to allow focusing on the rest.

'That may have been related to my evening activities, but,' Cullen paused, his cheeks turning a deep red, one hand making its trademark way to the back of his neck as it would whenever he was in a situation he found awkward, 'it was not tiredness which caused my error, I may have overexerted and pulled a muscle, which I failed to properly adjust for this morning.' Max was only really able to register the fact that the other hand was rubbing Cullen's lower back. Lower than that in truth.

Gulping, and with his voice breaking mortifyingly for the first time in ten years, Max managed to get out his last real concern, 'I don't need to hit Dorian then?'

Cullen snorting may have been one of the best sounds in the world. 'No. He may have been as shocked as you regarding the state of my virtue, though. He neither sullied anything which was not already thoroughly sullied nor did he do so against my wishes. And as to your concern about me seeing this as a duty, he is my friend first, and it felt nothing of the kind.'

'That makes me feel somewhat better. But the rest? It may not be unwilling, but you do not seem overly enthusiastic about it.' At Cullen's return to an apparent sour taste, Max hastened to add, 'I do not mean to judge, merely understand. I have most certainly overstepped my bounds, but do not feel telling me where to stick my understanding would be overstepping yours.'

Cullen moved from the door to sit behind his desk, pouring a cup of wine for each of them. 'It helps. Physically it is tiring yes, but it helps my withdrawal. To release does something to my head which reduces the craving for lyrium. Helps me sleep. The more I do it, the less sick I feel. Does it mean I'm better placed to perform my duties as the Commander of the Inquisition? Yes. Would I still do it knowing I did not have such responsibilities? Yes, for the relief it brings. Though I do not know whether I would have found the strength to stay free from lyrium, were it not for my place here. Not everything is one thing or the other. In a way, I suppose it is like taking medicine. Sometimes you'd prefer not to suffer the taste, but you know it will be worth it, and if you're lucky, it will make you feel very well for a time. I can see you are itching to ask me something and I'm sure I'll regret it, but go on.'

Picking up his own cup and sitting opposite, Max nodded sombrely, and paused for dramatic effect. 'How on earth do you take that many cocks and walk the next morning?' The result was spectacular when Cullen spat his wine clear across the desk and glared at him; the liquid dripping down his face and staining his tunic well worth it.

The feeling of putting his foot in it returned to Max though, as the glare morphed into apparent severe embarrassment. 'I don't,' Cullen's whispered reply came.

'You don't swallow them, there's no way you'd yell loud enough to wake me up every bloody morning.'

'No, I, when I said I fuck them, I meant it literally.'

'Oh!' Max pondered until it became an awkward pause, 'but you said it was the release which aided you, why bother with so many?'

The blush brightened further. It felt the moment was pushed too far; Max was about to make his apologies and take his leave when Cullen finally began to talk again. 'I can,' he paused, turning an impossibly deeper crimson, before clearing his throat and continuing, 'I can come several times.'

Max wanted to accept it as fact and maturely move the conversation on, 'you get through queues of twenty men some nights!' he squawked out instead.

Cullen tipped his head back and groaned, 'I don't climax with each one, sometimes I make them spill first, and it's too uncomfortable for them to continue.'

'Why would they be unable to continue?' The poor man looked like he was going to spontaneously combust from mortification and Max was becoming probably inappropriately and definitely uncomfortably hard in rather unforgiving leather so decided a tangent was in order. 'Can we have that uncomfortable discussion we never had now?' he asked, somewhat nervously. He wasn't expecting another flat out if kindly rejection but the decision was ultimately Cullen's to make.

Seemingly taken aback by the change in topic and the chance to recover from his distress, Cullen appeared momentarily perplexed before he understood. 'I don't want to fuck you and lose you as a friend. I don't know if I'm capable of more than that. At Haven, I knew I wasn't.'

It was kind. Not necessarily a rejection but not really a glowing endorsement either. 'I see,' Max said, dejected somewhat, though with a small, sad but genuine, smile in his face.

'I don't know if I could, give it up,' Cullen mumbled.

'As much as I do enjoy seeing your face turning that wonderful colour, I'm really not trying to embarrass you. I'm certainly not trying to humiliate you. I would like to understand, though. I don't want to pass up the chance for something more with you because of a misunderstanding. What couldn't you give up? And why is everyone so desperate to have you fuck them?' At the further blush and wince that generated, he qualified, 'I didn't mean that to sound accusatory, I think it's clear I am included in everyone, but that is despite not knowing whatever they do.'

Cullen sighed and seemed to sink in on himself with shame, it broke Max's heart, but he couldn't help if he didn't understand. 'I don't know if I could give them up, to give myself only to you. We live hard enough lives that fitting in a relationship would prove complicated at best; I would want to devote what time I could to you, and keep myself for you, but this provides such relief from the lack of lyrium that I fear you would not be able, physically, to sustain it alone.'

'If it means I could have you, at all, I believe sharing you would be no great hardship. Especially if I get all of you and all the rest only got to share your body.' Cullen looked shocked at his response, as though he couldn't really believe it. As though he was afraid to. Max decided something needed to be made abundantly clear. 'I believe in love, Cullen. Strongly, stupidly, naively, I am a hopeless romantic. It's why I fly into a blind panic Dor and Bull have the tiniest of squabbles. I am also a pragmatist. If you could love me, I would go searching high and low for men for you to fuck if it meant you let me love you in return. Monogamy isn't really all that important to me.'

'Really?' Cullen asked, almost, Max hoped, sounding hopeful.

'Really.'

'And would you also want to...,' Cullen trailed off looking down at the floor. If they were to try, Max was going to find his inability to discuss it both sickeningly endearing and unbelievably frustrating. He wouldn't change him for the world though.

'It would seem you think you would be able to wear me out and still need to go looking for more, so I suspect it would be unnecessary, but unless you would particularly be against it I'd prefer we were on even footing in that regard.' It seemed his fears Cullen would be less inclined to let him roam were unfounded as the blonde smiled and gave a small nod. 'What I really want to know, though, is why you think I would be unable to satisfy you?'

This, apparently, was what most of the embarrassment stemmed from as Cullen once again looked incredibly uncomfortable and struggled to form words. Max took pity and stood to close the distance between them, pressing his fingers to the man's chin and tilting his head back, so they were eye to eye.

'Nothing you say is going to scare me away, Cullen,' he murmured softly in encouragement.

He felt the jaw under his fingers relax slowly before a blurted, 'I'm rather big,' once again proved that this man could very abruptly rip though his sanity. It was true it didn't scare him away, but his mind wasn't there anymore. A cough brought him back. 'I mean, my manhood. It is large. I've always been rather embarrassed by it.'

Max sat on the edge of the desk and nodded, he thought sagely, but the growing look of panic on Cullen's face made him suspect it may, in fact, have appeared insane. 'Can I see?' The choked sound from Cullen and his brain firing back up produced a somewhat panicked, 'I can see!' yelled in the other man's face. Then after a breath, a calmer, 'I mean I can see that it makes you embarrassed to talk about it. It shouldn't, though. Not with me.'

They stared at each other for what felt exceptionally more interminable than the few seconds it really was before they both burst out laughing. A few minutes later, as the last of the giggles petered out and making eye contact ceased to renew the mutual guffaws, they sat smiling at one another until Max felt a hand caress his cheek.

'May I kiss you?' he asked, and receiving a bright smile and nod in response tipped his head forward to capture Cullen's lips. They were warm, surprisingly smooth, and he couldn't feel the scar on the upper lip until he ran the tip of his tongue over it, which invited an escalating response. Somewhere in the middle Cullen had stood without breaking them apart, so Max was no longer tipping forward to reach from his perch. When they pulled apart, finally, grudgingly, a small strand of spittle still connected them long enough for Max to see it as it split, bidding a plaintive moan he had no control over.

A small chuckle was the response, before Cullen asked, 'would you still like to?' his voice sounding wrecked.

'Like to?' Max asked dazed.

'Would you still like to see it?' Cullen still looked somewhat sheepish at asking, but the awkwardness had passed firmly into Max's court.

Some spluttering and a groan later, he managed to mumble, 'very much, yes please,' into the fabulous chest his face was buried in.

Cullen pulled away, but before Max could react, his hand was taken, and he was yanked to his feet. He followed to the ladder in the corner, the stairway to what he suspected on this evening was the best place in the world to be. He took the lead, and the cursing from below him made up for some of the discomforts his leather confinement provided. They did highlight his assets ever so well.

He'd been up here before; he'd been everywhere in the fortress, but not since it had been made more homely. He would be having words later about he still gaping hole in the roof. As Cullen joined behind, he turned to greet him and to his surprise was pushed back onto the bed.

His yelp was quickly smothered by a mouth as Cullen scrambled to follow on hands and knees, hovering above. Max quickly threw one arm around Cullen's neck to draw him into a deeper kiss while the other worked its way into the beautiful thick blonde hair; much softer and less greasy than expected.

Eventually, another plaintive moan was pulled from him as he was forced to separate. Cullen had sat back over his belly, holding his own weight, a smile on his face and radiating such joy Max had never witnessed from him. He couldn't help but smile back, 'I did that,' he said amazed.

The startled laugh and nod of agreement from Cullen had him turning pink as he realised he had not thought that as quietly as intended. 'I really hope you aren't ashamed in front of me. I have far more reason to be.'

Cullen laughed again. 'Don't be. I find it endearing.' He did colour a bit then but steeled himself. 'Like this? Or would you prefer we stand?' Max signalling his blessing and Cullen had him shuffle back to prop up slightly against the pillows, following the whole way in his knees. He seemed to freeze for a moment before making a decision; hands moved to the buttons of Max's tunic, hovering in question until he received a nod of consent.

Max's breathing grew heaving as Cullen's fingers worked open the buttons in turn, then the lace beneath. They made their way inside to push the material away, skirting lightly over his skin and the dark hair on his chest, making him gasp as a thumb lightly brushed over a nipple before the garment was opened wide and push back slightly from his shoulders.

Cullen's hands had returned to rest on his thighs, and he was squeezing them tightly while he chewed on his bottom lip. Their gaze met again, and with another nod from each of them, he began to unlace his trousers. Lifting up slightly to push them down he revealed what looked to Max like the strangest and uncomfortably tight looking undergarments he had ever seen.

Reaching behind himself Cullen undid a lace, which released a strap on either side which then proceeded to be loosened from the bottom as one would an Orlesian corseted gown. To Max's wonder, however, as each strap lost its tightness, the pouch grew. And grew. Once he had released them all, Cullen seemed to be unable to make eye contact but continued, one hand going inside to pull the contents out, while the other pushed the confining material down out of the way. Placing his hands back on his thighs and sinking back down to rest over Max's belly, he kept his eyes focused somewhere around the mid-chest.

It was almost twice as long as his own was hard, although he quickly realised it was still entirely flaccid. It was as thick as his wrist. Cullen's arse was still hovering an inch or two above, but he could feel the heat of the fist-sized balls resting on his belly, the shaft facing towards him sat between his pectorals. It was huge.

'Cullen, please look at me,' he said softly, the man did, though he looked as though he was ready to bolt out if this didn't go well. Max placed his hands atop Cullen's in a possibly vain attempt to stop him bruising his thighs. 'Why would you be embarrassed about that? It's beautiful.'

The snort of disbelief had returned. 'I've spent my life being ridiculed; by my friends as a teenager because I walked funny. Having to buy or requisition special undergarments. Being denied by comrades, and refused by whores because it's too much for them to take. So now I have to entertain a queue of men who know they can or want to try so I can have the relief. I can come ten times in one night without much difficulty. I can barely strap myself up if I go a week without.'

Max wondered how best to respond. He couldn't fix a lifetime of discomfort, but he could allay his current concerns. 'I don't believe it will be too much for me. I wonder though have you tried the other?'

'Women? Or receiving?'

'Either I suppose.'

'I find them attractive enough, but I think I'm more suited to men. I've tried it, and I've no problem with it, but it doesn't relieve me.'

'I can't. If I tie myself off, I can manage it, but I've never been able to stay hard to completion inside someone without such help. I do love to have a man inside me though Cullen. I don't know how big that gets, but I'm sure I can accommodate it. I have a trick up my sleeve, which I think you might appreciate. I'd like you to fuck me tonight, and we will see just how well suited we are to each other.'

Cullen's smile was hopeful in response, and he enthusiastically acquiesced as Max moved his hands to the star of the show. The skin was soft and smooth, as he pulled it slowly down towards the base to expose the head, a pool of clear sticky liquid poured out as though held in a reservoir. The more he played, the more it grew, slowly making its way towards his face. More liquid began to ooze from the slit in the now exposed head, slicking the glide of his hands as his confidence grew and the strokes became further.

He revelled in the moans coming from above him, and when the dripping head was only an inch from his lips, Max wondered when Cullen had shuffled closed. Then he marvelled at the bigger picture. He hadn't. Cullen had planted his weight back on Max's hips and was, if anything, further away. Close enough to taste, was the largest cock he'd ever seen on a human. In fact, it was the largest... he let out a barked laugh.

Quickly, before Cullen could take it the wrong way he explained, 'please don't think I'm laughing at you. I promise I'm not. It just, that night I saw Dorian and Bull leave here together, and Bull looked so put out,' he paused to release another laugh, 'I think I've just worked out why!'

Happily, Cullen let out a small laugh, and the smug smile on his face remained. 'It was a bet.'

'Oh, really? What was the ante?'

'Our arses. Dorian was the prize pot. That really is a story for another time, though.' Cullen shuffles ever so slightly forward at that, just enough for lips and head to connect and the world to stand still yet again. A flick of a tongue and matching moans drawn by taste and sensation resumed the action. No matter how much he sucked and lapped at the weeping head, Max had an endless flow of liquid to feast upon, warm, salty, sticky, and ever so slightly bitter.

Their arrangement was not conducive to devouring more than an inch or two, his attempts to unhinge his jaw thwarted by his stubbled chin pressing into his chest as he tried to wolf down more. The girth likely meant he would never fit a great deal down his throat, but unless he planned to drown in never-ending precum, it was time to move things along. Max pushed back against Cullen enough to regain use of his voice.

'I'd very much like more now,' he said, to witness Cullen jumping off before he'd finished getting the words out, pulling his shirt off as he went. The sight was certainly one to behold. Lightly furred and heavily muscled, flesh crisscrossing with scars he wanted to map out and learn one by one, belly still defined, but less rib and the slightest beginnings of a layer of fat returning to the worn thin man. Down further, his gaze drifted to a truly obscene sight. Max marvelled how the size and weight didn't cause its owner to unbalance and keel over.

It assuredly cleared a foot's length and was much wider around than Max's own wrist. If Cullen were to walk around with that hanging down his trouser leg, it would be difficult to get much of anything done, let alone skilled swordplay. Its owner was not a small man, but it was still disproportionate, his being underweight making it seem even more freakishly so, but Max didn't care. He just wanted to feel it inside him.

Cullen had stopped again and was just stood still, looking down. His head popped back up upon hearing a moan of unadulterated appreciation. After holding Max's gaze for a moment, he bent to finish divesting himself of his lower coverings. Slowly he made his way back up the bed to capture, once more, lips waiting impatiently.

The kiss began to trail down Max's jaw, further to his neck, making him hiss and squirm as it stopped briefly to suck a mark before moving on. Lips trailed lightly over his throat and the feel of a tongue poking out to taste the drying liquid its owner had dropped onto his chest earlier. One nipple then the other was licked to hardness, blown over and chewed on just hard enough. As callused fingers played through the coarse hair of his chest and squeezed the hardened nubs, Max moaned and sobbed in pleasure, discomfort, and frustration, until the lips pulled back from his sensitive belly and hands left his chest.

For a moment everything was still, then he felt a tug at the lace of his trousers. He let out another sob, this time one of relief.

He'd never been troubled by his own modest size, but if Cullen wished to engage in some humiliation over it some point in the future, he wouldn't object too strongly. It was hard not to feel inadequate in comparison. As the last of the ties were undone and the tight leather peeled back, he keened as he sprung out. The sound was drawn out longer, rising to a higher pitch, as Cullen demonstrated he wasn't put off by the diminutive size of his new toy, swallowing it down to the base in one go.

Max grabbed at the blonde hair, and realising he was in no danger of choking the other man, held him down tightly to feel the tongue swiping burning patterns on his hard flesh, even dipping out onto his sack, and the back of Cullen's throat tightening around him as he swallowed. Before he could allow himself to be driven mad from the sensation, he gave a tug to bring Cullen back up; he complied, though slowly, taking one last hard suck at the head before sitting back, licking his lips and pouting.

It startled a giggle from him that the stoic Commander could be so playful in this and he received a raised eyebrow in return. Lifting his hips was thankfully hint enough, and his trousers were being peeled down his legs, with a pause only to quickly loosen and pull off his soft boots. When Cullen looked back up at him, his face radiating pure want, Max gulped.

'Oil?' he asked, nervously in case Cullen was unprepared. It seemed unlikely given the events that lead them to here, but he really didn't want to go searching the castle.

Cullen hopped off the beg and returned presently with a squat terracotta pot. For a moment it confused him until Cullen dipped his fingers in then pulled them out to show Max the thick grease quickly softening with the heat of his skin. As he began to apply it to himself, it became clear to Max why it was better than oil, the amount his massive cock would need would make liquid very messy.

Still rubbing himself, Cullen asked, 'how would you prefer to try this?'

Max gave a derisive snort in response and flipped over to his front, chest and face pressed into the mattress, back arched, and arse high in the air presenting, pushing back far enough to feel Cullen's knuckles again his cleft each time the man slicked his cock to the end. There would be no try; he was taking that beast come what may.

The sound of flesh rubbing stopped, and he braced for the head to cautiously breach him, maybe tentative fingers first, so the firm sure lick from balls to taint pressing insistently inside took him by surprise. His groaned out expletive earned him a chuff of air and a nip of teeth at the flesh of his rump before the long wet tongue continued its mission to turn him into a pile of goo. Cullen it seemed was well endowed everywhere.

As he relaxed more, he felt the stretch get wider and realised that greased fingers were dipping inside to join the probing muscle, massaging the rim before pressing in further inside and rubbing the walls of his insides. One then two and three before Cullen shifted and the tongue left him with a final lick, fingers taking over completely.

They didn't speak, but Cullen seemed to know instinctively when he was ready to open further. The other hand joining the first. One second two fingers would scissor inside him scraping his prostate teasingly as they twisted, the next he would realise three from each paw had worked their way inside and hooked on his rim gently pulling away from each other.

By the point he recognised that his limit was nearing, he needed to feel just a little more. Lifting his head, he realised the sheets below were wet with tears of pleasure, more still dripping from his face. 'More,' he begged, desperate to be granted his wish.

'More is my entire fist,' Cullen replied after a gulp. 'There is just the last knuckle of my thumb to go. Are you sure?'

Max nodded and sobbed out, 'yes!' He felt the pressure mount, the stretch increasing to the point it was going to tip into pain and shoved back into Cullen. Suddenly like a bowstring released he found himself sliding back and his insides filling, his ring trying to tighten around the forearm inside it.

'Fuck,' came the articulate response from Cullen. 'I've never done that before.'

'Neither have I,' Max stuttered out in between deep breaths taken to maintain his composure, 'and I would really like to explore it with you further love, only another time. Now; now, I need your cock.'

More fucks followed from both of them as the hand was slowly twisted and withdrawn. Max could feel the frigid air of the room inside him, for the moment it took until his hole was filled again, slowly but firmly with hot, smooth, slicked flesh. Hands gripped his hips as it worked its way inside, deeper and seemingly never-ending. The stretch was not as much as Cullen's fist, but somehow so much more at the same time.

The hands moved from hips to shoulders, a thumb rubbing the nape of his neck, as he felt the knees between his ankles shuffle forward as the press continued. When he felt impossibly full, almost to bursting, Max thought he would have to stop the onslaught. Then he felt the tickle of coarse hair and the press of hips and pubic bone against him. It was all inside. The constant pressure against his gland made him feel like he would burst.

A moment or an hours reprieve he wasn't sure, but then Cullen pulled back, and something inside him snapped. A wanton moan escaped him as he began to shake; he felt the wet on his belly running down the slope to his chest.

'Did you just?' Cullen asked.

Max nodded. Then managed to eke out a breathy, 'yes.'

Except for the odd twitch inside him, Cullen stayed still, only partway into his outward stroke, for a moment before shifting slightly, indecisively. 'Should I withdraw?' he asked, disappointment clear in his tone. As much as he had tried to hide it, he was dejected.

Max had, however, anticipated this. Reaching back to grab a muscled thigh as tightly as his reach would allow while also punching back to retake the last couple of inches. 'Don't you dare,' he managed to grit out after recovering from a slightly pornographic whine, before demanding, 'keep going, I'll tell you if I need you to stop.'

Trusting him to know his limits, Cullen did resume his thrusts, though slowly at first, only building up speed as he assured himself that Max was in fact not in any discomfort, definitely not pain; if anything he was enjoying it more than before he came.

He could feel it building again, slowly rising inside, stronger than the last one as Cullen's relentless pace grew faster and more of his length was pulled in and out on each stroke. Max was tipped over the edge when it almost left him completely before being driven into the base hard enough to bruise his arse, then grinding inside him, throbbing against his prostate. He wasn't sure whether it was the thrust or the knowledge Cullen had just spilt inside him, but he sobbed as his second orgasm hit, this time lengthened by the continued movement inside.

Once Cullen had stilled, and Max's sobs had subsided to whimpers, the man inside him pressed close to his back, a hand wrapping around his chest to hold him up, a whispered voice in his ear asked, 'did you just? Again?'

Nodding, this time, sure Cullen would understand through proximity. Sure his voice wouldn't sound too fuck-drunk, he managed a smug, 'I told you I had a trick up my sleeve.'

Cullen barked out a laugh even as he began to slowly grind in and out again. 'You didn't even touch yourself. How many time can you do that?'

He had no hope of sounding composed this time, the thrusts getting longer again, even as Cullen stayed plastered to his back. 'I don't know, I've never hit a limit that's made me stop before, but feel free to see if you can find it. I suspect I can keep going longer than you,' he managed to get out the challenge in between moans and whimpers.

‘We shall see,’ was the reply.

* * *

Max awoke with morning sunlight beating down on his face as he groaned and tried to burrow himself under the pillows. As he moved to roll the tug of an arm draped over his chest and the large object still firmly buried inside him brought back the memories of the night before and he smiled.

'Good morning, Inquisitor,' came a low gravelly voice from behind him, followed by a kiss to the base of his neck.

'Good morning, Commander,' he replied even as the man started rocking his hips, 'a substantially good morning.' A chuckle in his ear followed by some stronger thrusts had him groaning with a very welcome ache. 'It seems that while I may have won the battle last night,' a snort and particularly deep and pointed thrust interrupted him, 'it would seem you are on track to win the war. So, just in case I wasn't clear enough last night or you didn't quite believe me, my arse would like the first refusal, but if you must go elsewhere to satisfy your urges I really don't mind.'

The movement stopped for a moment before Cullen responded, 'you are sure?'

Max bit his lip, 'yes. Cullen, as much as I would love for you to ruin me over and over, day after day, I have other things I must do that require me to walk. And sit for that matter. I don't think I can take that pounding more than a couple times a week. And certainly not the night before I'm riding out to the Hinterlands at dawn on a bloody nuggalope. Now fill me up once more then go play with Dorian or you soldiers; whatever hideous activity you perform at this ungodly hour.'

Cullen laughed out loud while picking up his pace. His insides had been beaten into submission after last night, now shaped perfectly to take this amazing man, and Max let the speed and depth mount as he moved closer to ecstasy once again. It didn't take long for him to tip over the edge and every muscle tensed and twitched. The involuntary spasms tightening around Cullen soon proved enough to bring him off, and Max felt yet more liquid spill inside him.

They basked in the sunlight pouring in through the makeshift skylight for a few moments, Cullen's hand playing through the mess on his belly, and Max had never felt so content.

Unfortunately, it didn't last, and he groused as his new best friend was slowly withdrawn and he turned onto his front, hiking a leg up as he went, to ward off the greater of his aches.

'Fuck,' Cullen said softly as his thumb tugged at the gaping ring he had left behind, 'you aren't closing up. My seed is dripping from you.'

Max groaned. He couldn't take this. The sexual tension wasn't supposed to worsen after having sex. 'Good. I don't ever want it to be closed. I want to stay open and ready for you. I want to be dripping with your come whenever you aren't inside me, primed to take you once more.'

It was unrealistic, he knew. A nice fantasy. Agreeable enough that he knew just what to say when Cullen shyly suggested, 'I have a plug.'

He was going to do everything he could to keep Cullen satisfied and happy. He wasn't letting him go, and as he felt the chill press of slicked serault glass against his rim, he knew he would spend the day sitting uncomfortably and grinning like a loon.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated but don't feel obligated! :)
> 
> I'm also on twitter @bgiific


End file.
